


Far Far Away

by Octopocalypse



Category: South Park
Genre: Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octopocalypse/pseuds/Octopocalypse
Summary: !Disclaimer!This is content from an RP, I may write into a proper fic one day but for now be aware that some of this writing is not mine. I will indicate so before each chapter if its not my writing. I'm merely posting it here to 1. Document the work that I've put into this thread and 2. Have a reference of the events that happened if I ever write it out into my own fic.I will link the second author in the chapter notes but I can't say for sure if their blog will remain in tact.Kenny takes Kyle for a road trip far away when his dad says some unsavory things about their relationship. Kyle has always wanted to leave South Park- just not like this.-
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All writing in this chapter is mine <3

Sometimes words just _fail_.

Kenny had been robbed of his ability to formulate a thought in that moment, just stared in awe at the sheer _stupidity_ of Kyle’s dad. Once the door is closed he’s caught again, throat dry and tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

" _Not my boy_ " the accusation clings like an anchor to his heart, Kyle’s face is the water in his lungs though.

Sometimes words just Fail.

So he doesn’t bother with words, instead he drags himself heavy to his feet, leaves his heart there on the floor. Wordless he packs a bag for the other, face flat and jaw tense- holding down all the terrors he wished he could howl at the man. Makes a shovel in his head and digs a pit to house all his anger- what set him apart from Kyle was how careful he had to be with his anger. Redirects it into stuffing neatly folded socks into a back pack and tosses it over his shoulder.

 _“Let’s get in the car and drive and only stop once we’re far, far away from here.”_ He’s not sure if Kyle was serious, but it didn’t matter, because even if it was just for a few hours, he was going to take him away from this. If he wanted to stay somewhere else he’d at least have the comfort of knowing he had a fresh pair of clothes for tomorrow.

It doesn’t seem real. Kenny only vaguely feels the outline of the window sill under foot, Kyle’s hand warming his palm. The countless times the red head has guided him through those blinds felt like a distant memory. He wanted to be Peter Pan this time, and teach the other boy how to fly. 

If only things could work out half as good as a story. If they did Ken would leap from the branches, hold out his arms and effortlessly catch his _knight_ and they could be _happily ever after_.

## …

He rides the gas all night, flatbed rattling behind them, the refuse of the war. Kyle’s soft, broken hearted words in his ear as he recounts countless _other_ times his father had said something similarly sickening. How often he’d dreamed of escaping those four walls, and all the guilt he would house for what he left behind. Fingers tighten on the steering wheel, regretting the absence of ache in his knuckles. A wasted opportunity to punch Gerald in his ugly fucking face-

Kenny doesn’t stop, even after Kyle goes quiet. Eyes lingering on every dead rabbit and opossum over turned on the road. Guts spilled. Putting ideas in his head. Ideas that turn his attention to Kyle, slumped and hugging himself in the passenger side. The scenery slows, foot lifting off the gas, fingers lifting off the wheel. Kenny peels off his jacket, sends it over, bunched up sneaks it under petal soft cheek. He checks the road again, throwing his upper half in the back and pulling a ratty old blanket out from under tools and trash. 

The smell of oil clings to it, but its better than nothing. He covers his friend- _boyfriend_ and gives his attention back to the road. Driving until he can’t possibly keep his eyes open anymore. A piercing light pulling him into a truck stop like the northern star. He drags the truck into a stall and kills the ignition, slouching across the seat into the pile that was Kyle. He hopes this was Far Far Away enough.


	2. Moment of Serenity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle wakes in an unlikely haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All writing in this chapter is by: https://redheadjew.tumblr.com/

Time is broken into fractions when one is flowing across the open road, settling into each evergreen tree slashing through the air; every snow-kissed peak of a mountain which passes one by, the gaps in-between the crumbling yellow paint upon the splintered asphalt marking away the seconds. The tear stained lids of his eyes begin to grow heavy as the coruscating shades of dusk bleed into the azurine canvas of the firmament, the image of the quivering glow of the headlights gliding across the road burning into the backs of his eyes as darkness envelops him within its soothing embrace.  


When he returns to the conscious world, it is by the velveteen light which is warming his lashes, gently coaxing them to flutter apart. The familiar scents which surround him brush a comforting hand across his heart whose pace threatens to stumble into an accelerando as he fails to recognize the deserted roads around them. For a few precious moments he resists the impulsive urge to shift in his seat as he listens to the softened breaths kissing past Kenny’s lips, watches the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the mound of the blanket which covers them. The rising sun begins to peek through the mountains, dancing through the unruly locks of Kenny’s hair and falling into their golden pool. He does not realize when he cants his head downwards, until his nose is buried amongst them. A part of him wishes to encapsulate this chimerical moment of serenity, and hide it where the hands of those who seek to tarnish it may never reach it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: I ask that you don't bother Fae with questions about this series or our interactions. We are no longer speaking and I don't want to put them in an awkward position. Even though we aren't friends I still enjoyed the stories we made together which is why I wanted to archive them and possibly turn them into fics.  
> If you enjoy their writing please just follow their blog and don't mention that you found it because of this fic, again I don't want to remind them of anything unpleasant. We had a good run and it was fun, please just enjoy these glimpses into our fonder times.


	3. Taste of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny "makes" breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all mine <3  
> and this is where the rp ends and in all likelihood I will just continue to write it as its own story on my own.

He looks forward to these rare moments, a sliver of time dipped in normalcy. The freedom of closing his eyes on his own terms, waking where he left himself. He cant think of anywhere he’d rather open his eyes either, after the quiet violence of the day. Even as he fights it, trying to linger in the safety of wakefulness, sleep quickly smothers him into another imageless consumption of time.

Innocence sits on his chest with the first drops of sunlight. All the anger, fear and pain his face had worked to stifle from the night before, absent without any of the effort. It remained buried as the light creeps toward gently sealed lashes, causing them to scrunch with annoyance. The celibacy of sound broken with a chipped tooth groan, jaw unhinging to make way for a full body yawn.

Kenny’s legs kick out blindly, his shoes lost somewhere among the pedals under the dash, a socked foot finding the window switch and pushing it down. The cold morning air nipping his toes as he stretches them out the open window, lending that this wasnt the first time he’s slept in his truck. He takes his time waking up, eyes the last to peel open, staring adoringly up at Kyle with a warm grin on his lips.

“Good morning, Ginger bear” he chirps, voice thick from unuse, and even with eye lids weighed down by sleepiness he still finds a way to look bright and alive. 

“I made breakfast-” he lies, neck craning to peer through chips in the windsheild to remind himself of the neon sign that had guilded their journey here. 

“Taste of Heaven..” He lets the words linger on his tongue for a moment and drops his head back on Kyle’s chest. “Sounds yummy, right?”


End file.
